2013.05.01 - Legion O'Clubs
So afternoon on a Wednesday is probably the least disruptive time for Legionnaires to show up in the Ace o' Clubs. Afternoon on a Wednesday is also when Rokk decided he'd like to check it out despite the fact that he radiates squareness. He's at least not in uniform. Or even in Power Ranger Civvies. Just jeans and a black t-shirt that says 'MST3K' on it. He's sitting at the bar, seat furthest to the wall so he can lean against it, and the old men and scattered bikers are ignoring him. Probably because he's eminently unapproachable when he wants to be. Pint of some kind of brew, notepad, grim-ish expression, feet hooked off one of the rungs of the barstool. But there's his flight ring, and he's so trackable. And no, Rokk isn't alone. There is someone else with him. Possibly mutltiple someones. but still... All right, so it may be a bar, and Imra may be under age. but she's here. And technically she's /not/ drinking alcohol. but if anyone looks too closely they'll just see a blond girl in a pair of blue jeans, a plain white t-shirt, and a red jacket. And despite her /not/ drinking, it's /almost/ as if they don't even think to check her ID for even being in here too. Of course despite her not drinking, she is still eating. A burger and fries actually. "This is a /LOT/ better than I expected." Looking a bit more disgruntled at not being able to order anything stronger than soda, which he regarded with a questioning look ('Didn't these people put them up their nose?' 'No, Garth, that's the other kind... and dude, don't TRY to put the straw there!'), Garth is settled in next to Rokk, watching all the scattered bikers. "Hey Rokk, Imra... you know, I'd like to try one of those 21st century cycles-things. I mean, I know they're pollutive and everything, but man, do they make -awesome- noises..." "What, Bibbo's?" asks Cos absently, crossing something off on his notepad, then scribbling something else in. "Or the burger? Last time a bunch of us got stuck here, Ayla was all about the soy substitutes. Wait, you were here for that. Well. There. That past. Grife..." And this is why the beer. The older Legionnaire has some more of it. Beer solves time travel headaches sometimes. "Whatever. Here, glance over this?" He slides the notepad over, and there in his precise handwritten Interlac, the first section of the charter. The part about uniformity of uniforms is scrapped entirely and the part about pay and jobs is a lot more open. And then he steals one of Imra's fries and eyes Garth. "You can get the sound without the pollutants. I'd say talk to Jo but I don't know what his tech is like. He's always the one with the good speeders." "The burger." Imra says with a shake of her head. "And I remember." Then though, as she gets that copy of the 'charter', there is a slight frown as she reads it, before nodding slightly. At least that's until she glances at Garth at his mention of the bikes, which does cause a slight smile to appear for a moment or two before vanishing. "... Ayla...?" Now Garth eyes Cos. "You know, Ayla's like, thirteen. Or at least she was in -my- time. Like... stuck as an electrical cloud or something till Brainy brought her back." Leaning back, Garth takes a look at the charter obeidently, doing a quick glance before wrinkling his nose. "So how are you going to have elections when nobody knows -anyone-? The only thing most of these Legions have is that -we- started them, it seems..." Casting a glance at Imra, Garth grunts. "So you two are going to be doing a lot of paperwork and... Rokk, wait, you're not thinking of...?" "Tryouts? Hell no." Well that's where Rokk's assumption went, anyway. "And simple answer: we don't have elections until we know each other better. I mean, you're all willing to follow me for now, which is good enough for now, but hell if I'm keeping the job forever. And usually Ayla doesn't get stuck as an electrical cloud or whatever. Like Laurel was saying, you're just from Weirdland." He eats a couple more of Imra's fries, then scoots his notepad back over. "What's up, SG? I mean-- you're frowning. And if you're frowning while eating a burger, I really did something wrong." "No. You didn't do anything wrong." is said as Imra goes back to reading. All though she does let out a slight snerk at that Ayla thing. "Just the thing you have here about jobs kind of reminded me of something I was considering the other day." At which point she looks up. "Simply put... We need to network so to speak. I don't think we have enough information regarding our arrivals. heck, we don't know if it's just the Legion or if there's others having similar issues, and to do that we need info, and to do that, we need to be connected to the people who might know, or be able to find out what we need." Sitting at a bar at Bibbo's, dressed in relative civvies (jeans and t-shirts (black for Rokk saying MST3K, white for Imra with a red jacket over it, and blue for Garth), were the three Founders, currently observing the scenery of scattered bikers and old men recalling the glory of days past. It was a sight better than Rokk's scribbled Interlac attempt at a charter, as Garth ponders the situation. "So, we've got Superman, uh... Rokk stopped me at trying to talk to that Janet Van Dyne woman, and... you know, we should just check the Omnicron for here and see who has that kind of information, right?" Look! Walking into the bar! It's a bird, it's a plane! It's...not Clark Kent but an incredible simulation. Wearing a scarlet shirt so dark its practically black, with a midnight blazer and trousers, a dark-hairded guy with designer glasses steps into the Ace o' Clubs. He looks like the Daily Planet reporter, but with a far less mild-mannered fashion sense. If you looked in his wallet, everything says 'Larry Kent'. His gait is far cooler too, as he approaches the threesome at the bar. "Hey," he says with a smart aleck grin on his face. "When have you been my whole life?" "More than excellent idea, Imra. Can you do that? I mean-- can you head it up, anyway? So Legionnaires who you delegate don't do stuff like go to Janet van Dyne and ask if she can auction us off to the highest bidder," Rokk says, leaning around Imra to punch Garth lightly in the arm. "And sure, go on the internet with it, it's like a 2-d Omniweb." He sits back, then, and polishes off his beer. He's actually in the process of ordering another when 'Larry' walks in, and would've done a spittake if he hadn't just swallowed. "Sprocking /grife/! How long have *YOU* been here?" he asks, gaping. "Here, pull up a-- just-- do you want a beer? Geez... Garth! Have you met Lar?" Rokk's sliding off his barstool now, grinning like crazy; despite the fact that he's like fifteen years older than he should be, judging by Garth and Imra, he's not acting like it-- instead, he's already reached for Mon's hand like he's gonna shake it like a bad habit. When have you been...? Yeah. Imra actually does facepalm at that line. That is even as Rokk delegates that to Imra causing her to mumble something about how she'll try. Of course as she realizes just who it was who said that line, she can't help but crank her head around and look up at Lar... That is before her jaw drops. Rubbing his shoulders, Garth shakes his head. "Fine, let me find how how to access the internet. Where am I going to get a 2-D Omniweb...?" And then Larry Kent comes in, and now Garth was about to say "CLARKIE!". The problem was a) he'd already met Clark Kent, and Clark Kent didn't dress up like -this-. "Uh... no. Who's this?" is Garth's response, as he tilts his head. "It's... wait, it's not Kell-El, is it?" Lar laughs as he and Rokk shake hands, and he claps the MST3K-clad man on the shoulder with his left hand. There's a familiar looking ring on it as he makes the 'a round for all four of us' sign at the bartender before sticking that hand back in his pocket. "I've been here for months, although I just came back from out of town. WAY out of town. I didn't get here the way you all did, I imagine." Lar smiles at Imra and Garth "Hi guys. 'Have we met' has got to be driving everyone crazy from the looks of you three. Although it's good to see you, if that makes sense." He turns to Garth. "That's one I haven't heard! Mon, not Kel, but Lar works when people not in the , uh, club are around." Looking around and lowering his voice, the incognito Daxamite adds, "I know something's 'wrong' but I don't know what, seeing as I just got back. ' "My perspective probably isn't as important as what you were talking about, but if you really want to hear it, I'll spill. Why are we looking for information? And about what?" Yeah, it's 'we' already - in any time, Lar is Lar. Huuuuge grins back at Imra and Garth, and then Rokk's slinging an arm around Lar's shoulders. "No wonder. I've been sending out calls for the past six months-- or I was until people started showing up, now there's enough chatter it'll just come through. Man! I don't care which you you are, it's so good to see you!" Quick guide toward the bar, and then Cos slides back into his corner spot and flips closed his notebook. "Okay. Garth, you know Laurel? Easiest way to explain is that Lar's Laurel's cousin. Lar, half the stuff Garth says makes no sense, but he's still Garth. Imra, you wanna give him the long story really quick? And what we're talking about is exactly that, actually: what's /wrong/. Because yeah, it's a lot." << I'm not even sure where to start. >> Imra admits telepathically to the group, while doing her best to make sure others in the bar don't pick up this conversation. That is as soon as she recovers from Garth calling Lar 'Kell-El'. <> Yes. She 'said' that. And she shakes her head at it. <> "Other than meeting Laurel the other day... no, but I'll take your word for it," Garth says, regarding Lar with a curious look. "At least it's good to know that there's one of each of us in just about every 'verse'." Infinite IMRAS, Rokk... Wait. Aw grife, Imra by any verse still had telepathy, right? And she had to remind him of it by talking in the Legionnaires' heads. <> << I don't think it's just Legion. >> Lar chimes in. His reaction thoughts at the mention oddities are a mix of surprise and unsurprise, which then causes him to be confused. <> "I'm established here," Lar continues in speech. He turns to Rokk, "I can't tell you which me I am. I'm 'this' one. But if I concentrate, I remember the other ones. << And sometimes I think I 'remember' the future. >> Anyway, I'll use whatever clout I have to get us introductions." He grins at Garth, "and a computer." There's a pause, and Lar rubs the back of his neck sheepishly. "So...Laurel's here?" You can hear the 'omg I am so selfish' in his voice. And Imra likely catches another name popping into his head. "Laurel's here," Rokk says mildly, "and this is Metropolis, and nobody cares. We don't have to 'whisper'. If you're really uncomfortable we can " --/which/ Rokk, again? l"" When the beers get there, yes: this time Garth and Imra get them too. Maybe Lar looks close enough to Clark that Bibbo's lackey is like you know what nevermind. Cos picks his up and takes a healthy draught, then clinks it down on the bar again. "< I'm also established here, but, you know. >" Vague gesture at how well Lar's dressed. "" << It's been a thousand years Rokk. A /lot/ of the big things were lost. Prior to now paper was the way to keep information, and that tended to last at least a few hundred year. But as they switch over to digital forms of storage a /lot/ is lost. They're already having issues about this right now, after just a couple of decades. I learned it the hard way the other day when I tried to find some information. It's just going to get worse with time until certain technologies we take for granted become common place.>> Yeah, Imra isn't exactly too pleased by that discovery. "I'm not exactly established yet. I was considering using the experience from my last 'job' before the Legion to find something, and maybe use that to find more information for us, but..." There's a shrug before Imra eats one of the french fries in front of her. All though at what Garth says, she just can't help but stop and peer. <> Waving a hand dismissively at Imra, Garth grunts. << I don't think Clarkie was interested... he had eyes for that El El girl, whoever it was. At least it wasn't Alexis Luthor... >> Peering at Rokk, Garth grabs the beer amd happily chugs it. << So we're going to do some research, poke Clarkie, and solve this situation before Brainy shows up and tells us with his 12th level intelligence how ridiculous easy this was?>> Lar laughs again at the mention of 12th level intelligence. "Some things are a multiversal constant, I guess." He shrugs at Rokk, "I don't know what to tell you, all those people 'belong' here to me - sort of. Some of them are just as inspirational to the people as Superman and the JLA. I even caught myself realizing it didnt bother me that Metroplis and New York are the same place." Lar tilts his head at Imra. "Imra's right, this place is a crazy hodegepodge of pieces that Brainy would tolerate and things that are still archiac. And they think it's technology. It's at a crossroads. Some say the violence and the fight for resources is what's keeping them from raching the next breakthrough." He scowls. "Them. Superman would never say 'them'." "Well maybe you're a plant," Rokk says cheerily. "I don't care if you are, though. I mean, hell, Garth here had a /good guy/ Nemesis Kid." Then he turns his glass around on the bar a couple of times and gives Imra a dubious look. "They weren't here last time. It's not what's come through history intact that's the problem. It's history itself that's broken. Again." He slouches down a bit, propping his chin in one hand. "I mean, every me ever is a history geek. And time travel is something we just... always end up doing. So it's like you said before--" another glance to Imra, "--it really probably /is/ something big. And if it needs to be stopped, and we can't stop it ourselves-- well, networking helps with that too." He pauses. He eyes Garth. "Wait, really? Like. He didn't go for a blonde?" And this is where Imra has to fight back saying multiple things to Rokk. Some of them not only are things she doesn't want to say, but they are also things he definitely wouldn't want to hear. << For all you know this is an alternate past. It may be the 'real' past for Laurel. Or Jo. Or Garth. And not the one you're from. Thus it might not be wrong in the way you think it is. >> All though at the mention of 'broken' History, the Telepath from Titan shakes her head and mutters something under her breath. Something that isn't in English or Interlac. Or that is before she speaks back up, in English. "Who ever these people are, we need to get to know them." is finally said before Garth gets an odd, crooked smile. "Definitely glad Laurel isn't here. Definitely." "No he didn't," Garth says, puzzled. "I think he just has a thing for strong Kryptonians or something. Why, you want to introduce him to Lar here?" Tilting his head, Garth considers. "Hey, he might... Lar, you don't, like, have issues with Coluan androids, do you?" At Imra's muttering Lar gives her an 'o rly?' look. Garth gets a confused expression. "Not especially?" he says. This is definitely not a Garth he knows, and thats saying something. "Well yeah," he says, "we need to do that. All of it." "Just /say/ it," Rokk says irritably to Imra. "Muttering never gets you anywhere but the medlab." He's probably going to be sorry. And then he continues, just thinking at Imra, still irritated-- but also in exactly the same way he /always/ gets irritated. It's nothing personal, it's pure frustration-- something none of them is unfamiliar with. ~And all I know for sure is that it's *not* a past I've encountered, and I've encountered a lot of them. Does it -really- matter how I define wrong? If you don't want me running with what I've got and changing it along the way when I get new information, you can be leader.~ "Sorry, but you're not pawning that off to me that easily Rokk." is said as Imra straightens out, trying /not/ to say anything to Garth about his Brainy being an android on top of him apparently having a thing for Superman. "Look, I'm not trying to be insulting, but it just feels like your jumping to a lot of conclusions here regarding all of this. About what's right and wrong with time, what should happen and shouldn't. Heck, even assuming that people are from the same reality or not. This is why I think we need more information. Because if we're wrong, we could make things a /lot/ worse." "Sorry." "... hey, you think Rokk's getting ahead of himself? C'mon. I mean, in -my- timeline, the big bad time-villain was this guy calling himself Imperiex. He'd been like, fighting time from the... uh, 41st century back to the 31st, then he tried the 21st... and... well, it all got screwy. But if Rokk's right, and time keeps changing, why can't the villain keep changing, like, I dunno, some kind of time villain amoeba?" Garth says, taking a swig. "I mean, for me, it was a big time warrior dude, but hey, maybe for Jo, it's a pony sorceress, for Rokk it's some trapper dude, and for Brin, it's like some little cute girl that thinks he's a cute furball." Lar rolls his eyes behind his unecessary glasses. "I so do not want to fight a pony sorceress." Holding up a hand he adds "But yeah, I think we have enough to worry about without getting on one another about the details. It is what it is." How's that cliche for going native. "When we find out what it is , we can worry about what it was and fix it. Or will be. Or something." He drains his own beer. "I hate temporality." Lar opens his mouth to say something else, and then shakes his head. "I kind of love it," admits Rokk, after making a cranky face at Imra when she apologizes, and finishing his beer. "Temporal nonsense. At this point it might as well be a hobby." He sighs, then steals some more of Imra's fries and pulls a worse face at Garth. "Time Amoeba? Amoeba Trapper? Man, I don't /even/." He waves his hands around, then slides off the barstool again and pockets his notepad and pen. "I'll keep my running theories to myself for now, then. Worrying is what I do. I'm gonna go back to HQ and work on making some more rooms upstairs. At this rate we'll be moving out next week." And here's where Imra facepalms and rubs her temples. Because this sort of reaction from Rokk is exactly what they don't need right now. Or that's how the telepath from Titan can't help but feel. "Look, I'm not saying that you might not be right, but..." She shakes her head, and then starts to stand up. "You know what? Never mind. I'll be at the 'base' if anyone needs me." "... Hey, it's no more insane than anything else we've encountered over the years," Garth grumps, as he glances at Lar. Nudging Rokk and Imra, Garth drapes his arms around the both of them as he leaps off the barstool. "Look, we're in this together, even if we're not what we're each used to. C'mon, all three of us started up the Legions in -our- timelines with each other. That's got to mean something, that we're all in for it. So... are we good with each other or what? Because in -my- timeline, I don't know about you guys, but our motto? Long Live the Legion. So... are we Legion, or aren't we?" Lar takes off his glasses, and puts them in his blazer pocket. He gives his once and future friends that almost-Superman heroic gaze. He puts his hand out in the center of the 'circle' , palm down. "Spockin' A, we are!" Somehow, Cos looks even more annoyed. Somehow, it's not even surprising. But then he sighs through his teeth, thumbs his flight ring around his finger, and puts his fist on top of Lar's open palm-down hand. "That was never in question. I probably just need to sleep some more. I think I've had three hours in the past three days." After a second, he adds with a quirk up of one side of his mouth, "Long live the Legion." "Long live the Legion." Imra repeats, before she tilts her head at Garth. "All though for some reason I can't help but see you saying 'Eat it grandpa' instead." Then there's a faint snort, and a nod. "And we're good. I hope." is said towards both Garth and Rokk. "We're the Legion." Category:Log